


cotton soft

by fiveblessings



Series: milk and honey [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding Kink, Consensual Somnophilia, Lactation Kink, M/M, Smut, slight mommy kink, this is a lot sweeter than it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26949391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveblessings/pseuds/fiveblessings
Summary: Jungwoo looks so pretty when he’s sleeping. Doyoung thinks he can make him look prettier.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Jungwoo
Series: milk and honey [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1966510
Comments: 7
Kudos: 159





	cotton soft

**Author's Note:**

> I was tempted to rework this whole fic but it turns out I'm too lazy so.. here you go!! also someone on twt wanted mommy kink so those 3 sentences are for u ahahha

It’s still early yet, first rays of sunrise squeezing through the gaps in Doyoung’s curtains just enough that they light up the room around him, a soft glow like icing sugar dusted over his vision.

As his eyes adjust to the low light, Doyoung starts to piece his surroundings together, brushes of colour slowly forming a cohesive picture. Jungwoo’s tucked safely into his chest, still dreaming, but Doyoung knew that already without having to look just from the smell of his shampoo under his nose and the gentle weight of his arm limp over Doyoung’s waist. 

It’s nice to see him anyway, solidify his presence and remind Doyoung that Jungwoo’s not some faraway dream but real, and so wonderfully his. There’s tufts of fluffy dark brown hair sticking up, odd angles from rolling in the pillows after insisting last night that he didn’t need to dry it before bed (Doyoung knows he’ll whine about it later when he sees the state of himself in the bathroom mirror but he can’t bring himself to mind, he finds his pout too endearing).

Jungwoo sleeps in Doyoung’s bed most nights now, they spend most of their free time wrapped around each other so it makes sense that he spends his nights with Doyoung too rather than traipsing back up to his own bed, hands cold and searching for something that isn’t there. A good chunk of his wardrobe has appeared in Doyoung’s closet too despite the fact he’s always stealing Doyoung’s shirts, Doyoung thinks it’s because he’s a little obsessed with the smell, he’s seen him sat on the sofa with his nose tucked under the collar, basking in the feeling of being surrounded by comfort and safety.

Ever since Doyoung helped Jungwoo through his heat they’ve been virtually inseparable, such a natural change that Doyoung hadn’t realised how obvious it was till Yuta had asked them if they were dating to which Jungwoo, curled up in his lap, had just smiled and rubbed his nose on the underside of Doyoung’s jaw affectionately.

That had been coming up on 5 months ago now and Doyoung still can’t believe it’s real, can’t believe that Jungwoo’s his, every part of him given to Doyoung so freely and Doyoung doesn’t think he’s ever been happier than now, knowing that in turn, he can call himself Jungwoo’s.

His arms knitted around Jungwoo’s lithe waist tighten at the thought, burying his form deeper into his chest, letting the omega’s familiar scent wash over him and imbue itself into Doyoung’s skin. Whatever dream he’s having it must be a good one because Jungwoo smells calm and happy, his light smell, in turn, making Doyoung’s alpha subconsciously pleased, patting himself on the back for keeping him safe and serene. 

Peering over the crown of Jungwoo’s head, Doyoung’s alarm clock blinks back at him. Just after 6, still more than an hour before they have to be up, but Doyoung’s not tired enough to fall back to sleep. He and Jungwoo had passed out early last night and he feels energised from the extra hours in bed but he’s hesitant to move just yet from the position he’s wrapped in, the pair’s bare legs tangled and sharing each other's warmth.

He doubts Jungwoo would still be tired after such deep sleep but the omega works so hard and Doyoung doesn’t have the heart to rouse him just yet from his well-earned rest. He’s content instead to just lay here and hold him, feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against his own, soft as the breeze on the other side of the glass pane of Doyoung’s window.

It feels like he’s been lying there for hours watching Jungwoo’s hair flutter with his shallow breath, the way his fingers twitch ever so slightly from where they’re resting in Doyoung’s hip as he traces the tendons in the back of his palm, but the clock tells him it’s only been 10 minutes tops. He would have stayed there too, wrapped in their little bubble separated from the world turning around them but something surprises Doyoung enough to have him blinking out of his lovestruck daze.

Doyoung should have smelt it sooner, nose practised like a bloodhound, but the fabric between and around them has dampened the spread, trapping the molecules in between it’s woven threads. It’s barely there, a gentle touch as light as a feather, but once he notices it, it’s impossible to ignore. The heat of their bodies is enough that there’s no shock in temperature but the warm wetness now sticking Doyoung’s shirt to his chest easily makes itself known. 

Ever so slowly, Doyoung retracts his arm from the dip of Jungwoo’s waist and drags the duvet still pulled up to Jungwoo’s shoulders away till it's lying crumpled at the end of the bed, their bodies now exposed. Jungwoo shivers slightly as the cooler air of the room touches his bare legs but other than that he doesn’t stir, his nose still buried in Doyoung’s collar breathing slow and deep. It’s a delicate job but Doyoung manages to turn Jungwoo ever so slowly off his side and onto his back, the arm that was lying on Doyoung now bent up to his shoulder on the mattress beneath him.

Free of the bedding, Doyoung can pick up his scent properly, drifting around them in the now agitated air. He smells like the citrusy shower gel he used last night, the flowery notes of his shampoo still clinging to his hair, under that he smells like himself, like honey and sunshine and something unnameable that makes Doyoung feel like he’s had the air knocked out of his chest every time he catches it. He smells like Doyoung too, lavender and gold. It makes Doyoung burn with pride and satisfaction, so fresh and clean and indulgent, everything Doyoung craves.

It’s a bit of a shame not to have Jungwoo clinging to him anymore but the unfiltered view of Jungwoo spread out beneath him is more than enough of a reward. The cool light is brighter now, the fresh morning glow is lighting up Doyoung’s crisp white sheets crystalline, it makes Jungwoo’s warm skin look more tanned, a healthy glow emitting from the exposed parts of his body which, rather pleasingly, is most of him.

Doyoung’s eyes automatically zone in on the wet patches on his front, almost see-through from how thin the white cotton is. His fingers ache to reach out and touch, feel the heat of his skin through the fabric, circle the wet mess he’s made on himself with his fingertips and make it even bigger, watch as he soaks his whole shirt just from pressing against his swollen skin through the barely-there barrier. It’s too hard for Doyoung to press his urges down, his hand moving almost automatically till he’s gently ghosting his fingers over the border between the wet and dry fabric. 

Normally, the heavy, full feeling building in his chest is enough to wake Jungwoo up before he starts to leak, making it out from under the covers before his milk can even start wetting his warm skin but now, he still lies blissfully unaware, cheeks puffed a bit as though he's deep in thought, considering the images still playing behind his closed lids.

Jungwoo lets out a tiny breathless sound as Doyoung cups him through his shirt but other than that he doesn’t show any signs of waking. His tits are barely there, small enough that it’s too hard to notice under his usual slouched shirts but Doyoung’s familiar enough with Jungwoo’s body to spot the difference. 

This had happened during his last heat too despite the suppressants. When a curious Doyoung had asked him, Jungwoo had said that his heats were normally strong enough that he sometimes had symptoms despite the suppressants but he’d never lactated when he was taking them before. His doctor had said it was nothing to worry about, probably a result of his increased contact with an alpha, Doyoung’s fault then but doesn’t feel particularly remorseful.

The omega’s on his suppressants this cycle too, which he’ll no doubt be complaining about in the next few days but their schedule’s busy and a heat is the last thing they need to set them back. Ever the smooth talker, Jungwoo had managed to convince their manager into letting him take the weakest dose possible but works out pretty well this way anyway, Jungwoo doesn’t have to take time off to deal with his urges and he manages to dodge most of the pills’ side effects that would usually plague him.

Of course, it’s not a perfect fix, these things never are. Sometimes he’ll still get the headaches and nausea while other days it’s a struggle to stop his leg from bouncing with jitters, cravings clawing out from under his skin telling him, begging him to just bend over and let himself be  _ taken _ . It’s far easier now with Doyoung though, always there to hold a cold cloth to his forehead and fuck him hard and fast the second they get home enough to calm him back down again.

It’s that exact thought that fuels Doyoung to keep moving, the 3-month-old memory of his sweet, precious Jungwoo begging him for his cock like he’ll die without it, as wet as he would be if he really was in heat. The wet stain steadily grows as Doyoung traces his areola, their deep colour now easily visible through the fabric, Jungwoo shivers a little as Doyoung pinches his raised nipple, the gentle scratch of his blunt nails sending sparks through Jungwoo as his milk seeps from him to answer the touch.

Tempting as it is to see how much he can make Jungwoo leak, see if he can completely soak the front of Doyoung’s clothes and the sheets below him, it seems like far too much of a waste to Doyoung. Maybe next season they’ll have enough time for Jungwoo to take the days off to have a proper heat and Doyoung can let his fantasy play out then, let Jungwoo get so full till he’s crying for Doyoung to help him only to let him leak agonisingly lowly from just his hands, see how many orgasms he can pull from him as he does it. For now, though, Doyoung wants to savour every last drop, he’s lucky enough that Jungwoo’s producing any milk at all and he’s not about to let it go to waste.

The shirt Jungwoo’s wearing, one of Doyoung’s, is baggy, the neckline so stretched it’s barely clinging on to the edge of his shoulder. It makes it far too easy to push it up till the fabric is bunched unceremoniously just under Jungwoo’s collarbones. Doyoung lets his hands map Jungwoo’s flat stomach first, feeling his skin lightly goosebump from the change in temperature. There are light lilac bruises scattered over his hips from a few nights ago that Doyoung can perfectly line his fingertips against, painstakingly gentle as not to wake the younger.

“So pretty,” Doyoung mutters out to the still air around them. And he is, they are, his nipples already flushed and a little swollen so close to Doyoung’s mouth, the gentle swell of his tits almost begging Doyoung to lean just a bit forward and let his mouth soothe them.

Jungwoo’s head has rolled to the slide whilst Doyoung’s been playing, exposing the graceful line of his neck. Doyoung leans in to press kisses to the smooth skin, letting his scent spike as he leans in close to his nose, hoping the thick smell of his alpha so nearby will calm him enough to keep him lulled.

They’d spoken about this before, Jungwoo carefully admitting to Doyoung after the elder had woken him from a wet dream that he wouldn’t mind Doyoung using him while he still slept. Doyoung hadn’t realised how much he liked the idea of it too till he woke up after a nap to the smell of Jungwoo’s slick permeating the room as he writhed, still asleep next to him. Watching Jungwoo wake up midway through his orgasm, dazed and still too tired to stop himself from trying his best to grind down on Doyoung’s fingers deep inside him, had been enough to have Doyoung knotting without even fucking into Jungwoo’s soaking hole. The buzzing feeling had stayed under his skin for days after too, an itch he didn’t realise was there begging to be scratched.

That’s why he feels comfortable enough to let his hands wander down, finally smoothing his thumbs over the bare skin of his nipples and watching as Jungwoo’s mouth fall open, letting out the first moan that’s louder than a whisper. His body won’t react this way to his pump, only to Doyoung, as if his body instinctively knows the touch is his alphas without even being conscious, letting himself find pleasure in the sensation. 

Doyoung makes sure to keep his touches gentle, the circles his thumbs are tracing around his nub are far lighter than usual, ever so slowly coaxing milk from them, watching as it dribbles to meet his thumb only to be smoothed into his skin so it’s only visible as a wet sheen covering his tits. 

Too impatient to wait any longer, Doyoung starts to move himself into a better position, parting Jungwoo’s limp legs so he can slide into the warm space between them and leaning down on his forearm so he can rest his head on Jungwoo’s chest without it being too heavy of a pressure to disturb his breathing.

Mouth now close enough, he leans in, pressing his tongue flat over the pebbled nipple and licking over the hot skin a few times as if he’s cleaning up the spilt milk rather than creating a bigger mess of spit from his wet tongue before finally letting his lips purse and seal over Jungwoo.

The flow of milk is steady, as gentle as Doyoung’s sucks on his nipple. It’s gentle enough that Jungwoo’s still quiet for the most part, panting ever so slightly and letting his chest arch up into Doyoung’s mouth with each inhale without even realising how he’s encouraging him. Doyoung does his best not to get over-enthusiastic though, letting himself savour each mouthful as the thick sugary taste coats his tongue.

Aside from his breathing and the odd twitch, it’s a surprise that Jungwoo’s still largely motionless, body not yet writhing despite the obvious pleasure he’s in. Perhaps even unconscious his body recognises the feeling of Doyoung suckling from him, being so good as to keep still and not disturb his feeding. 

Even with his nose pressed flush with the swell of Jungwoo’s breast the smell of Jungwoo’s slick is unmistakable, mixing with the mess of both Jungwoo and Doyoung’s pheromones slowly getting more intense. Letting his thigh creep up to brush against the underside of Jungwoo’s boxers, Doyoung can feel the wet patch seeping through the fabric and now onto Doyoung’s skin. His boxers glide smoothly as Doyoung flexes his thigh like they’re already so coated in slick that there’s virtually no friction left.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Doyoung’s free hand slips off where it’s stroking patterns on Jungwoo’s sternum to slip in between their bodies and down to the parted legs he sits between. The waistband of Jungwoo’s boxers is as loose as his shirt, resting precariously on his hips, it's practically an open invitation for Doyoung to slide his hand into them.

Doyoung’s hand almost shakes as he rubs the palm of his hand down over Jungwoo’s hard cock where it’s straining against the worn fabric, his fingers meeting the wetness that’s spread so much that it’s costing the underside of his balls and dripping down the crack of his ass where it’s leaking out from his hole. He starts to palm Jungwoo’s cock in time with the drags of his mouth still latched firmly onto his nipple but it makes him move too much, jerking against Doyoung’s hand in response to the new touch on his sensitive skin. Instead, he lets his hand wander, fingers moving inch by inch following the trails on his slick till he’s tracing around his hole where the mess is biggest.

He lets his fingers rest there as he continues to suck, just on his rim and no further, feeling the slight give of his muscles as he gently adds pressure. It’s like he’s already been fucked with how loose he feels, but Doyoung knows he always gets like this when he has his mouth on his tits, the sleep only helping him relax more.

It’s intoxicating, being allowed free reign over Jungwoo like this, permission to do as he pleases whilst the other stays blissfully asleep. It makes him want to experiment, play around and see how far he can push Jungwoo’s body when his responses are so unadulterated, just pure feeling and no thought.

After one last deep suck that has Jungwoo taking a low shuddering breath, Doyoung pulls back and pushes himself back onto his knees, letting his hand slip out of Jungwoo’s underwear only to start tugging it down, material, heavy with slick, catching at the bend of his knees before Doyoung’s tossing them over the side of the bed. He takes a deep breath of his own, leaning back on his calves properly so his eyes can scan over the boy still nested in the sheets beneath him.

Jungwoo’s legs had naturally parted, making room earlier for Doyoung as he made himself comfortable between the welcoming space between his thighs, and they’d stayed as such as Doyoung had undressed what little clothes he had on his lower half. It makes it all too easy for Doyoung’s gaze to drop between, his hole somehow framed by the wet fluid smeared over Jungwoo’s smooth skin, now unhindered by his boxers and dripping onto the sheet below. 

Doyoung’s finger reaches out to follow a thin translucent line trickling down the side of the swell of Jungwoo’s ass, stopping it before it can reach the bedding and following the trail back up till he’s slowly, finally pressing past his rim, watching how Jungwoo’s hands make tiny fists in the pillow as the tip of Doyoung’s finger enters him.

Encouraged by Jungwoo’s soft responses, Doyoung lets the full length of his finger slide in, what little tension there is in Jungwoo’s walls dissipates easily as the finger inside him pushes against his slick walls. He’s adding the next after just a few pumps, Jungwoo opening just as easily as he had done with the first, pliant and yielding as Doyoung’s fingers start to scissor, his head sinking further into the pillow and lengthening the elegant curve of his lightly arched spine.

From the view Doyoung has above him, Jungwoo looks like art, muscles ever so slightly coiled with tension that he’s not yet fully aware of, defined like a sculpture. His eyelids are fluttering, whether because of whatever dream he’s having, unknowingly influenced by Doyoung’s actions or because of the fingers moving inside him, opening him up, Doyoung’s not sure. Rather than ponder it any longer he adds another finger, watching Jungwoo squirm at what little stretch there is.

He’s much less calm now, docility making way for desperation, his whimpers sound more defined as Doyoung lets the pads of his fingers press against his walls but still avoiding his sweet spot, not wanting to push his luck too far and have Jungwoo finally waking at the intense pleasure. Doyoung’s knuckles catch a little ungracefully on Jungwoo’s rim as his enthusiasm peaks, catching the jerk of Jungwoo’s hips so not to have the omega unknowingly roughen himself up more but he doesn’t anticipate the way his arm responds, fingers unwinding from the pillow cover to clumsily drag over the nipple that Doyoung’s yet to touch.

Doyoung’s hand stills, intent on watching what’s playing out in front of him, seeing how Jungwoo picks up from where Doyoung left off without even being aware of it. His movements are lethargic, similar in essence to the way he’ll shift onto his other side when he sleeps or how he’ll tangle his legs with Doyoung, snuggle up closer to him but now they seem more purposeful, driven by pleasure-seeking rather than comfort.

He’s more pawing at his chest than actually touching, not enough fine control over his fingers to do much more than press his palm against the side of his tit, fingers resting a little numbly over his nipple, faintly brushing over the wetness lingering there that Doyoung hadn’t cleaned up. Finally finding his composure again, Doyoung pulls his hand back, letting his fingers fully slip from Jungwoo’s body and watching him whine at the unknowing emptiness, knees trying to bend up to comfort himself but in the end, he doesn’t find the strength.

Making his mind up, Doyoung starts to kick into action. Shoving a pillow under Jungwoo’s hips as gently as he can, Jungwoo’s not especially heavy so it’s not too hard, before tugging off his shirt and underwear, ruined by now by his precum, and letting himself jerk his cock a few times, hot and heavy.

He barely has to think as he shuffles forward on his knees and watches Jungwoo’s thighs relax around him like he can feel that he’s there, second nature as he holds his cock and pushes slowly into the wet hole waiting and open for him. 

Jungwoo’s walls flutter around Doyoung’s cock as he settles fully sheathed, his instincts telling him to clench down but not lucid enough to surmount any real force. Doyoung doesn’t wait before he starts moving, there’s not much reason to take it easy when Jungwoo’s already loose enough to take him comfortably, his thrusts quickly building up to a steady pace.

Doyoung keeps his eyes locked on Jungwoo’s face to focus on any sign of him stirring, sensitive to each flutter of his eyelashes, the rate of his breathing, every twitch and curl of his fingers as Doyoung’s cock drags against his walls. He’s always so receptive, even if it is a little more sluggish than normal, his body so finely tuned to Doyoung’s than somehow they still manage to move in tandem.

The pleasure builds and builds, Jungwoo’s walls so hot and slick around him that eventually, Doyoung can’t stop his own eyes from screwing shut in ecstasy. The tension in his neck finally breaks, head hanging between his shoulders as he tries not to let his breathing get too loud. Jungwoo’s moaning faintly, the same whimpers he makes when he’s having a wet dream. It’s strange how endeared the sounds make Doyoung feel, his torso lowering a few inches so he can get closer to the omega, panting into the crook of his shoulder as he takes hold of Jungwoo’s hand that’s slipping off his chest links their fingers together on top of the sheets.

There are a few light snuffles by the ear as Doyoung’s hips continue to bare forward that make him look up, eyes catching Jungwoo’s pretty face only this time his eyes are open, dark irises sparkling a little with unshed tears.

“Thought I was dreaming.” Doyoung hadn’t quite grasped that Jungwoo had woken up till the sound of his soft voice breaks the silence, not with the way that his hole still loose and pliant around Doyoung’s cock deep within him. Doyoung slows down the movement of his hips, not realising till now just how fast and hard they’d become.

“Don’t stop, ‘s good.” His voice is slow and thick whether because his brain is still too sleepy to catch up or because it’s hazy with pleasure Doyoung’s not sure, it’s probably both judging by the way his eyes keep falling back closed, his mouth hanging open letting his breathless gasps run free in time with Doyoung’s thrusts.

Doyoung heeds his wishes, pulling Jungwoo’s creased shirt off of him and picking back up his pace as one had hold’s Jungwoo’s hip steady so he doesn’t get too jostled with the force. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to the corner of Jungwoo’s open mouth, the boy probably wouldn’t have enough coherency to properly kiss him back yet, before leaving a trail of pecks down to his collar. 

“Good morning,” Doyoung says. Jungwoo laughs a little but his mirth is mostly eaten up by his light moans.

“What time is it?”

Doyoung checks the clock, “Just before 7.”

“Mmm, I slept a while.”

“What were you dreaming about?” Doyoung asks between tender kisses to the centre of his chest, if he presses close enough it’s almost as if he can feel the hurried beats of Jungwoo’s heart not quite masked by his shuddering breathing.

“You,” Jungwoo gasps out. “You and me, you touching me.”

“Touching you where?”

“Here.” His hand drifts up to pinch the nipple Doyoung had been latched onto. He must feel the wetness Doyoung’s tongue left there, cooling on his hot skin, or perhaps he just thinks it’s milk that’s leaked from him whilst Doyoung’s had his way elsewhere. “You were touching me here.”

“You started leaking in your sleep, maybe it was because of your dreams.”

“Maybe my dreams were because of you.” He tries to raise an eyebrow but fails, expression melting into one of pleasure as Doyoung delivers a hard thrust, hand tightening on the thick swell of Jungwoo’s thigh as the wet sound of his slick echoes through the still air.

Jungwoo’s hand slips off his chest, too weak and shaky to form any kind of grip, instead, running between his thighs where he and Doyoung meet. The drops of milk that clung to his fingers from his nipple gets lost quickly as he feels the dampness practically coating the insides of his thighs, more being fucked out from his hole and onto the bed each time Doyoung’s pulls back out.

Doyoung can feel Jungwoo’s touch on the sensitive skin of his shaft as he continues to fuck him, his fingers feather-light, resting on his rim and moaning at the feeling of his hole wet and snug around Doyoung’s cock.

“Such a good boy, you opened up so easily for me.” Almost immediately Doyoung feels the pressure as Jungwoo moans and clenches down around where Doyoung’s inside him.

“I… was good?” He says it like it's the only thing he wants to hear, like the only words he wants to wake up to are Doyoung’s soft praises.

“Hmm,” Doyoung affirms. “The best.”

Jungwoo’s hand weakly slips away and Doyoung catches it, winding their fingers back together and pressing his hand into the sheets parallel to his shoulders. Jungwoo’s receptive to the closeness, his other hand hooking over the broad width of Doyoung’s shoulder and following the lines of his muscles up to the start of his neck, clinging on to him like a lifeline as Doyoung’s hips move hard and fast.

“Ah, I’m close, how long have you…”

“How long have I been fucking your sloppy hole?” Jungwoo shivers. Doyoung doesn’t usually speak so coarsely, normally the more proper of the two, so it always feels novel when he speaks obscenely, voice commanding and low, pushing closer and closer to the edge.

Jungwoo blushes and starts to turn his cheek to the pillows before Doyoung’s hand is releasing his own and moving to grip the angle of his jaw and turning him back to face him, the heel of his palm resting on his throat.

“There’s no need to act so shy, I know you like it.” Jungwoo whines at the smirk worming it’s way onto Doyoung’s expression. “I like it too. You were so loose for me, so wet, looked so pretty all passed out.”

“Ah, I’m gonna-”

“Go on, you can come. Just let yourself feel good while your alpha uses you.”

It doesn’t take much more than that, a couple of well-aimed thrusts right against Jungwoo’s prostate till he’s coming completely untouched, white painting the two of their chests as he clenches around Doyoung uncontrollably, more and more slick leaking from him and wetting both of their thighs.

Doyoung doesn’t let up, fucking into Jungwoo even harder than before as Jungwoo shakes through his orgasm. He couldn’t have pulled away even if he’d wanted to, not with the way Jungwoo’s nails are digging into his shoulder, his hole so tight as if it’s trying to keep Doyoung’s length buried deep in him, anxious every time his hips pull back. 

The tears clinging to Jungwoo’s waterline have finally spilt over by the time he’s come down, weak as he was before but now it’s less with tiredness and now with post-orgasmic haze as his hips try to buck up to match Doyoung’s punishingly hard rhythm.

The closer to his heat, or would be heat, Jungwoo gets the more desperate he becomes, always wanting more and more till he’s finally worn down and sated. Doyoung’s already expecting Jungwoo’s renewed enthusiasm but he hadn’t expected his eagerness to build as quickly as it has, back arching as he pushes his hips down, rim bumping against the knot that’s just starting to form.

Jungwoo’s nails leave red trails over the arch of Doyoung’s shoulder, ones that their stylists will no doubt scold him for later not that he can bring himself to care, as Jungwoo’s grip loosens and his hand slips back to his chest. Once his eyes catch Doyoung’s he does his best to hold the gaze, not letting his lids close as his fingers start to trace circles around his nipple.

“Not satisfied yet?” Doyoung teases as if his lips won’t be replacing Jungwoo’s fingers before he knows it.

“Hyung, you wouldn’t leave me like this,” Jungwoo pouts. “It’s your fault anyway.”

He can’t exactly argue with that, not that either of them mind, instead, batting Jungwoo’s hand away and slowly leaning in to kiss down his chest till he reaches the gentle swell of his tit. Jungwoo’s hands are still shaky as he threads his fingers through Doyoung’s silky hair, struggling to get a good grip to guide his mouth where he really wants it.

“Please, it’s for you.” The statement would sound a lot more earnest if Jungwoo wasn’t already so fucked out but Doyoung accepts the gesture anyway, it would be cruel to keep Jungwoo waiting any longer when he’s already so broken with pleasure.

The whimper he makes when Doyoung’s lips wrap around him is so much louder, so much prettier when he’s awake to make it, moans only getting louder and more shameless as Doyoung sucks. Doyoung’s hands are tightly wrapped around the smallest part of his waist, easily steadying Jungwoo’s body as he continues to hammer into him, not wanting to let up on the feeling of Jungwoo hot and soaking wet wrapped around him.

There’s not much but Jungwoo’s milk is so sweet, so saturated with pheromones that it hits Doyoung like a train as the liquid touches his tongue, every time feeling like the first. Doyoung knows there’s a limit, not like the way he seems to spill and spill forever like when he’s in heat so he paces himself, so drags that have Jungwoo shuddering so hard Doyoung can feel the shivers run from his body to his own.

“So much milk and you’re not even in heat, it’s like you really are pregnant.” Doyoung pants out, pulling off, against the will of Jungwoo’s hands trying to pull him back down, in order to catch his lost breath.

Jungwoo arches, eyes glassy as they try to lock onto Doyoung’s face. “It’s because, it’s because of you.” He barely manages to speak, tongue so numb with overstimulation, yet he’s still vying for more, cock already hard again as if it’s still not messy with his come.

“I know darling, you're so good to me.” Doyoung lets his forehead rest on the centre of Jungwoo’s chest, eyes closing as he lets his imagination drift. “You’d be such a good mommy Jungwoo, such a good mommy for our pups.”

“M-mommy?” Jungwoo’s eyes are wide and shining, a little crazed with want. The word slipping from Jungwoo’s lips is like the match thrown into the kindling for Doyoung, every inch of his mind focused on the thought of his Jungwoo all knocked up, all because of him.

“Mmm, would you like that? To be a mommy for me?” Doyoung’s hand ghosts over the lowest part of Jungwoo’s stomach on his way to wrap his fingers around his cock. “I’d look after the two of you so well, you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing, just our pup.”

It’s such a nice thought, one that touches Doyoung’s desires so intimately that he can feel his orgasm edging forward, looming over him as his knot starts to swell. Jungwoo’s no better, the imagery proving too much for him, tipping him past the point of coherency. What little lucidity he’s gained is now lost in the haze of pleasure Doyoung’s words have filled his muddled head with.

Jungwoo comes first, lips mouthing words that he doesn’t have the state of mind to put a voice to, tears leaking down his temples as his neck strains back, unable to contain the waves of pleasure wrecking his now fragile form. 

Doyoung barely manages to pull out before his knot catches inside Jungwoo’s hole, walls tightening as if he’s desperate to keep him inside. He cries a little at the emptiness, thighs trying their best to close but not managing to muster any force against Doyoung’s grip, pressing more small bruises into the inside of his thigh as the keeps Jungwoo’s legs spread.

It’s the image of Jungwoo, glowing and round with their baby that has him spilling onto Jungwoo’s thighs and ass, his tight fist brushing his knot with each tug of his cock. Jungwoo looks shattered, melting into the sheets as Doyoung’s come drips down onto the underside of his ass, his eyes locked on Doyoung’s face as his expression darkens. 

Once he’s come down enough to gather himself, Doyoung’s hand is moving off his knot and on instinct, he’s pushing his come back inside where Jungwoo’s still loose and wet, Jungwoo doesn’t seem to mind the finger inside him though, more used to being stuffed with Doyoung’s knot after he’s come rather than emptiness anyway. 

It looks difficult, but Jungwoo manages to lift his deadweight arm enough to grab and pull Doyoung’s own till he’s lying beside him. Doyoung takes the initiative to rearrange them properly, pulling them so they’re both on their sides with Jungwoo’s back flush with his chest. Jungwoo whines a little but lets his legs spread anyway as Doyoung’s hand slides between his thighs to play with the wet mess the two of them have left there.

“How long before we have to be up?” Jungwoo tilts his head back so he can properly look at Doyoung, his messy hair fanning over Doyoung’s shoulder.

Doyoung’s other hand moves to brush the flyaway stands off his forehead, leaning so He’s halfway between lying on his back and his side with Jungwoo propped against him. “Maybe half an hour.”

“Let’s stay here till then, we can clean up later.” 

It’s not the smartest idea but Doyoung still wants nothing more than to do just that. He doesn’t let himself think about the mess they’ve made of the sheets around them, about how everyone will be rushing for the bathroom by then. Instead, he just focuses on Jungwoo, face inches from his, his smile so soft and sweet he forgets about everything else but him, so content he feels halfway between dream and reality, stuck there till their alarm finally sounds.

**Author's Note:**

> my [twitter](https://twitter.com/snoopyisms) or [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/snoopyisms) come talk to me :)


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